I Let Him Propose So I Could Destroy Him

Diana

The annual spring festival in the main town square was packed. Lanterns hung between the wooden pavilions, stalls sold spiced ciders and roasted meats, and nearly five thousand pack members had gathered around the central stone stage.

In my past life, this was the night I thought my fairy tale began. I had spent two hours fixing my curls, blushing like an idiot when Jax took my hand and led me up those steps.

Tonight, I wore a fitted crimson dress that hugged every curve, flat boots built for standing my ground, and not a single drop of romantic illusion in my veins.

I stood near the edge of the stage, watching Jax preen. He wore his finest pressed tunic, smiling at the council elders, soaking in the admiration of the crowd. He honestly thought he was the smartest bastard in the province.

He tapped the festival podium’s microphone, and the squeal cut through the chatter. The crowd quieted down.

“People of the Silver Crest,” Jax announced, his deep baritone carrying through the speakers. “Tonight, under the blessing of our ancestors, I want to share the greatest honor of my life.”

He turned to me, holding out a hand.

I took it without flinching, stepping into the center spotlight.

Jax dropped smoothly onto one knee. The crowd gasped. Young she-wolves clapped their hands over their mouths, and the front-row elders nodded in proud approval.

Jax reached into his pocket and pulled out a box, flipping it open to reveal a massive diamond set in platinum.

“Diana Vance,” Jax proclaimed, gazing up at me with eyes full of rehearsed devotion. “The moon goddess has spoken to my soul. You are my fated mate, the light of my life, and the future Luna of this pack. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

He waited, fully expecting me to burst into tears and throw my arms around his neck just like I did three years ago.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t smile.

Instead, I reached down, took the handheld microphone from the podium, and looked down at him.

“Jax,” I said, my voice clear and steady through the speakers. “Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?”

A flicker of confusion crossed his face, but he covered it with a confident grin. “With all my heart, Diana. I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

I almost laughed in his face.

He thought he was so damn clever. I remembered the exact truth now—the shady blood-witch he met in the border slums three days ago, the silver coins he paid to weave a fake mating bond around our scent markers, and the greedy gleam in his eye when he calculated how easily a fake bond would hand him my father’s entire estate.

“That’s funny,” I said into the mic, my tone light. “Because you make me sick.”

The square went dead silent.

Before Jax could process the words, I snatched the box from his fingers, pulled out the platinum ring, and hurled it straight into his face.

The metal struck his cheekbone with a sharp smack, leaving a bright red scratch before bouncing off his shoulder and clattering onto the wooden floorboards.

“I, Diana Vance, publicly reject you, Jax Miller,” I announced, every syllable ringing off the surrounding buildings. “I reject you as my mate. I reject you as my future Alpha. And I would rather swallow broken glass than ever call you my husband.”

A collective, deafening gasp tore through the five thousand wolves gathered below. Council elders shot out of their seats.

Jax’s face flushed an ugly purple. He scrambled to his feet, lunging forward to clamp his fingers around my wrist.

“Shut your mouth!” Jax snarled, leaning into my face. “You crazy bitch, stop humiliating me right now or I swear to the goddess I will—”

He froze.

The color drained clean out of his skin.

He had forgotten that my hand was still holding the microphone. His venomous threat had just blasted through four massive stadium speakers, echoing across the entire valley.

Thousands of pack members stared at their golden boy in utter shock.

“Threatening me, Jax?” I asked quietly into the mic, wrenching my wrist free. “Is that how a future Alpha treats his so-called fated mate? Or is that just how you treat me when you’re not sneaking into other bedrooms?”

“What are you talking about?” Jax stammered, panic cracking his mask.

I turned toward the crowd, pointing a steady finger toward the VIP pavilion.

“Ask my stepsister,” I declared. “Ask Ivy. She’s the one who’s been warming his bed for months behind my back.”

All five thousand heads snapped toward the VIP pavilion.

Ivy was standing near the fruit table, holding a glass of punch. The moment my finger pointed at her, her jaw dropped, her face turning chalk-white. She dropped the crystal glass, the red liquid splashing across her white lace shoes, and took two terrified steps back into the crowd.

“You lying whore!” Jax roared, completely losing his mind.

He lunged at me, claws extending, reaching to drag me off the platform by my hair—

BOOM.

The wrought-iron festival gates tore off their hinges, flying fifty feet through the air and smashing into the cobblestones.

A monstrous, suffocating Alpha aura crashed over the entire festival grounds.

Every single wolf in the square—the festival vendors, the screaming crowd, the arrogant elders, even Jax—slammed violently down onto their knees. Wolves whimpered, clawing at their throats as the ancient pressure forced their foreheads flat against the dirt.

Three sleek, armored black vehicles tore into the plaza, tires screaming against the stone before slamming to a halt.

The back door opened.

Zach Hamilton stepped out.

The Alpha King. The sovereign ruler of the northern territories. He wore a high-collared black trench coat that swept around his calves, broad shoulders cutting through the lamplight, his golden eyes glowing with a terrifying primal heat.

He didn’t spare a single glance for the trembling elders groveling on the ground. He didn’t even look at Jax, who was pinned flat on his stomach on the stage steps.

Zach walked straight toward the wooden platform, boots thudding with slow, deliberate purpose.

He climbed the stairs, stopped right in front of me, and looked down. Up close, those molten gold eyes were soft, burning with an intensity so raw it stole the breath right out of my lungs.

Without a single word of hesitation, he slid one large arm behind my waist and the other beneath my knees, scooping me up against his broad chest as easily as if I weighed nothing at all.

“Diana,” he murmured, his deep, gravelly voice brushing against my temple, quiet enough that only I could hear. “I have waited long enough.”

Against his chest, my heart pounded violently. The memories of my death rushed back—his broken sobs, his desperate hands trying to heal my torn stomach, his confession that he had loved me from afar for years. In my past life, I had run from this man, convinced the rumors were true, believing he was an unfeeling monster.

I wasn’t running this time. I was going to find out why he loved me.

“Let her go!” Jax’s choked, ragged scream broke from the stage floor.

Jax pushed through the crushing aura, veins bulging in his neck as he fought his way up. “She’s mine! Diana is my mate! You have no right to touch her, you northern savage!”

Zach slowly turned his head to look at Jax. The golden light in his eyes flared, cold and lethal.

“If your hands ever touch her again,” Zach said, his voice deadly calm, yet carrying enough authority to make the stone stage tremble, “I will rip your throat out and burn everything you own to ash.”

Zach turned to carry me down the steps.

Driven by sheer, blind humiliation, Jax snapped. His eyes went entirely black with feral madness. He reached down, grabbed a silver ceremonial broad dagger from the altar table, and lunged toward my back with lethal, desperate speed.

“Die!” Jax shrieked.

I opened my mouth to yell, but Zach moved faster than thought itself.

He didn’t drop me. He didn’t draw a weapon.

With lightning speed, Zach thrust his free hand backward and caught the jagged silver blade barehanded.

Crunch.

The razor-sharp metal bit deep into Zach’s palm. Hot, crimson blood welled around the silver edge, dripping steadily between his fingers and splashing onto the stage wood.

Zach didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink.

He slowly tightened his grip, the silver sizzling against his skin, and stared back at Jax with eyes of murder.